Where's Piro?

Roughly eight months ago, medical science announced with somber certainty that Cocodrilo Jr. (otherwise known as Vampiro, the blood sucker, or just Piro, if we're feeling lazy) was due to begin his reign of terror on August 20, 2008. That was yesterday, and so far, neither scale nor claw. We're outraged (and a little nervous.)

There are doubtless any number of compelling reasons to take due dates with a grain of salt. One of the things that amazed me when Catalina reported the pregnancy was that embro-dating is an approximate science. Indeed, the age of the child dates from the last day of the mother's last period, since it's anyone's guess exactly when within the window of the subsequent period the fertilized egg actually made it to the uterus. So, if I understand the theory correctly, the actual, biological age of an embryo dated 'X weeks' can vary by up to a couple of weeks. In our case, belly size and a few ultrasounds suggested that Piro was on the older end of the scale, which we interpreted to mean that he should be coming out early.

So much for back of the envelope calculations.

As a mathematician, I am sympathetic to the presence of statistical noise. (Whether or not my sympathies extend to baby noise remains to be seen.) And on a purely rational level I totally understand the fact that Piro is happy in his intra-uterine lair and reluctant to leap into a world where, e.g., I have been assiduously practicing diminished sevenths on my guitar. Our anxiety comes from the fact that current medical standards insist that children not born by 42 weeks be induced, a process that generally entails the administration of Oxytocin, a concommitant strengthening of the contractions, and, ultimately, the administration of an epidural. In other words, if Piro doesn't get off his duff and take the plunge, our natural childbirth plans are most likely out the window. Add to this the lingering fear that he really is a large boy (witness attached belly shots) and that this macrocephaloid monster won't make it through the pelvis, and you've got a nice recipe for lingering, low-level anxiety.

Fortunately, the natural induction regime is a lot of fun. Spicy food and aggressive love are what the mid-wife suggested, and we've been going hard in both categories. Mexican chile soup on Tuesday, hot Indian chicken curry on Wednesday, blazing black beans McCanCan tonight. Let us hope the recipes work soon, however: next on the agenda is Castor oil, followed by various sorts of clinical penetrations that sound about as much fun as the rack.